


Come Home to Me

by darthneko



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-06-25
Updated: 2001-06-25
Packaged: 2017-10-25 21:13:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/274841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darthneko/pseuds/darthneko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Schoolday memories exact adult promises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Home to Me

The night was dark, the moon that shone clear in the cloudless sky only a thin sliver that cast dim glimmers of light across the surface of the lake. Quiet and still, with the promise of a warm day to come, the night air carried clearly the soft rustle of robes and the sound of footsteps upon the grass. The woman who sat beside the shore did not look up, her quiet voice pitched softly into the darkness. "I wondered if you might come."

The other joined her, sitting down upon the grass a handspan away. "Poppy said she'd convinced you to get some rest. I know you better than that."

The woman smiled, an expression tinged with weariness and worry. "You always did, Minerva."

A slender hand reached out, almost hesitantly brushing her shoulder, then retreated once more. "Little mother," Minerva McGonagall said, with a fondness her students would have been hard pressed to recognize in her. "Seven years worth of Gryfinddors called you that, you know. We all did. Well," she amended, a bit hastily, "not to your face..."

The woman laughed softly. "Oh, I know. I can't seem to help it." The laughter trailed away, shadows hiding her downturned face. "Those were good times," she whispered. Her hands, resting upon her knees, plucked and twisted at the folds of her robe and she forced another little laugh, more strained than the first. "I liked looking after them all. Potions for the third years' coughs and telling stories to the first years when they'd be homesick and crying... it was all so easy back then."

Her voice caught on the last words, her hands clenching. Minerva reached out, hesitating again, then lightly covered one of those hands with her own. "Molly... it will be alright."

Molly Weasley raised her head, the moonlight turning the curls of her fiery hair to silver. Raising her free hand, she dashed quickly at her eyes, but the quaver in her voice gave away the tears. "Will it? Will it really?" She drew a breath, lips tightening, her hand fisting beneath Minerva's. "It isn't alright at all, Minerva. Not for the Diggorys. Not for their boy, not for Harry. I can't bear to think this is starting all over again! What will it take for it to end?"

"It will end this time," Minerva said firmly. "It has to." Leaning forward, she slipped her arm around the other woman's shoulders, hugging her awkwardly, her whisper pained. "Don't cry, Molly. Please don't. I could never bear to see you cry."

Molly shook her head, hands pressed to her lips. She stiffened at first, trying vainly to stop her tears, but when Minerva embraced her she broke, turning to bury her face against the taller woman's shoulder as silent sobs shook her. Minerva tightened her grasp, patting Molly's back gently. "Shh," she whispered, the words coming clumsily. "Shh, Molly, please. It will be alright."

"No it won't," Molly sobbed, choking. "It's not just Arthur, now. It's all of them, all of my babies! Bill and Charlie and Percy and the twins... Ron and Ginny and poor Harry... oh god, Minerva, it's war again, and they can't all come home safe. I can't bear it!"

Minerva fumbled her spectacles off, brushing at her own eyes. The loosened curls of Molly's hair were soft beneath her cheek, sweet with the scents of lavender and honey. "I've watched them all come through this school," she said softly, voice tight. "Gryffindors, every one of them, and the best that house has ever seen. Even Fred and George, even when I want to shake them... They're strong boys, Molly, they'll come home to you."

Molly drew a shuddering breath, using the sleeve of her robe to try and dry her eyes. "I'm sorry, Minerva. I just... I can't let myself think it. I can't dare to hope. It wouldn't be fair. Other people need that luck too... it's too much to think that all of them will make it through safe." She sobbed again, a soft sound, and Minerva drew her back down to rest against her shoulder.

"Arthur will see them through safely," she said firmly. "You have to hope, Molly. You have to believe. Arthur and Dumbledore will keep them safe." She paused, holding the other woman tight. When she spoke, her words were barely breathed. "And so will I. They're beautiful children, Molly. And every one of them... every one of them looks just like you."

Molly stilled in her arms, only a small, hiccuped sob escaping her. When she drew away her expression was troubled, the tears still glinting on her cheeks. "I... I'm sorry. Minerva... I shouldn't have said... I'm sorry."

Minerva looked away. Her eyes, unshielded by her spectacles, were large and dark in her pale face. "Why be sorry? I meant it, Molly. I'll watch those children as if they were my own." Her voice faltered and she ducked her head slightly. "In a way, they are. Because they're yours. Because they're everything you ever wanted."

"Minerva..." Molly trailed off, biting her lip. "Thank you," she said at last, softly. "I... thank you." She hesitated, hands twisting slightly where she held them in her lap. "We... we wanted you to be their godmother."

Minerva sniffed. Sighing, she wiped her spectacles clean on the hem of her robe and settled them back across her nose. "I don't think Arthur would have liked that," she said briskly.

"Minerva McGonagall!" She was drying her eyes around the tears, but Molly Weasley's sharp tone was still the one which drew her fully grown sons up short and it didn't leave Minerva unaffected either. "Don't you ever listen to anything? I said 'we', and I meant it." She let that sink in for a moment, then sat back heavily on the grass, her arms hugged tight beneath her chest. "You never wrote back."

Swallowing, Minerva plucked at several strands of grass. "I... couldn't." She sighed heavily, bowing her head. "Molly... drinking a toast at your wedding was the hardest thing I've ever done." She twisted a strand of grass around one finger, refusing to look up. "You were so radiant. I'd never seen you more beautiful. Married, and a mother within the year. I... I couldn't bear it." She finally did look up, lips pressed thin and jaw firm. "We were young, Molly. I don't say it was right, but at the time, it seemed for the best. I don't regret it," she added, almost defiantly. "Arthur and all the children... your life is perfect for you, Molly. I only would have been in the way."

"For being a Prefect, Head Girl, and now a professor," Molly said hotly, "you're one of the stupidest women I know!" Sighing, she ran a distracted hand hand through her hair, dislodging more curls from the disarrayed bun at the nape of her neck. "Minerva... you have always been welcome, and you always will be. You wouldn't be in the way." She reached out, catching one of the other woman's hands between her own. "I love Arthur and the children. But I never stopped loving you either."

"You've a more generous heart then most," Minerva whispered softly. She drew her hand away gently, brushing at the grass that clung to her robes. "I'm truly glad Arthur has made you happy," she said as she climbed to her feet. "I never wanted you to be anything but happy. Don't worry about him, Molly, or your boys. They'll move mountains to come home to you. It will be alright, you'll see."

She had turned to go when the other woman caught her wrist. Startled, Minerva turned back. "Molly..."

"Minerva," Molly said sharply, reaching up to grasp the taller woman's neck and pull her face down, "will you, for once in your life, just be quiet?"

The kiss was just the way Minerva remembered it from all the many years before. Soft lips and the taste of mint, a little rough, a little frantic, breathless and urgent. Just the way the first one had been, when Molly had surprised her so badly she had nearly run, and the way the last had been, when she _had_ run, unable to face the farewell in that final bittersweet kiss. Just like all the ones between, during the long days of a heady spring and the summer that followed, when she had laughed easier than she would have ever believed, laughed and loved and would have done anything, all for the sake of one pretty little red haired girl's dazzling smile.

Even when it meant letting that girl go. It had broken her heart, but to make Molly happy she would have done it a thousand times over.

When Molly finally released her they were both crying once more, silent tears, and Minerva shaking like a wind blown leaf. Molly held her firm, hands cupped to her cheeks, determination in her eyes. "Minerva McGonagall... you come home to me too. Do you hear me? I love you, damn your thick skull, and I won't lose you either. Not again. You keep yourself safe."

Another kiss, brief and bruising, and then she was gone, the sound of her footsteps retreating hastily through the night. Minerva stood where she was, eyes closed, the tears flowing unhindered down her cheeks. Sinking back down, she hugged herself, gripping tight. "I love you," she whispered, the words carried away on the rising breeze.

It was, in three small words, a promise. A pledge to try. Because, years later, she knew she would still do anything she could for that first love.


End file.
